


After He Rode Off Into the Sunset

by JenniferJF



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Tag, Extended Scene, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-25
Updated: 2011-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-20 17:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferJF/pseuds/JenniferJF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of missing scenes, extended scenes, or episode tags taking place after Season 8.  Sam/Jack ship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beachhead

She entered to find him standing at the window, staring into the darkening night outside. He must have been standing there for some time; he hadn't bothered turning on the apartment lights as it had grown dark. The last of the sunset coming through the glass mixed with the streetlights, casting what she could see of his features in a sickly glow. Only she was fairly sure there could be but one reason for him to suddenly and unexpectedly make the trip from D.C. to Nevada. And she feared not all she saw was a trick of the light.

"Hi, honey.. I'm home." She tried to keep her tone lighthearted, to hide her growing concern.

He turned to face her. The firmly set jaw below hollow, haunted eyes confirmed her fears, and she knew what he was going to say before he spoke. "Landry wants you back at the SGC. He's thinking of attaching you back on SG-1 to help Mitchell deal with this Ori mess."

"Well, that makes sense." She'd been expecting this, but that didn't make his obvious pain any easier to bear. She hoped he hadn't heard the catch in her voice.

"Yeah." He turned back to face the window, his back and shoulders rigid, a barrier between them.

She stepped forward, reaching out to him, "Jack…"

His voice, when he spoke, was barely above a whisper, but it stopped her dead in her tracks. "I don't know if I can do this, Sam."

The world froze around her. And then it tilted. Blood pounded through her ears though her heart had stopped beating. She couldn't breathe and, while she'd thought she'd known fear before in her life, for the first time she was truly terrified. Because she'd believed him when he'd said… And she'd trusted him that he'd never… And of all the ways she'd imagined this scenario playing out , this was not it.

She hadn't thought herself capable of movement or sound, but he must have sensed or heard something, because Jack suddenly turned around, eyes focusing on her in the darkness. And she'd only thought he'd seemed anguished before. "God. Sam…. No." In three swift steps he had crossed the space between them and folded her into his arms, crushing her against his chest. Face buried in her neck, words muffled by her hair, he continued. "Not that, Carter. Never that. You're the one thing I am sure of."

She clung to him in return for several long moments, while the world righted itself around them. Breathing returned to normal, body no longer trembling against his, she finally managed to ask, "Then…?"

"The job, Carter." And to her relief his voice had returned to nearly normal, too. "I may have been wrong. I may still be too close."

She nodded against his shoulder, understanding completely. Because if their situations had been reversed, if she were being asked to sit behind a desk while he left through the 'gate to face beings who this time really did seem to have godlike powers, she wasn't sure she could do it, either. And she couldn't imagine being the one with the final authority to  _stop_ it, to bring him home and keep him home when the reports and the briefings grew too much to take, yet knowing that that was the one thing she could not - must not - ever - do.

Only, in some ways, Jack was stronger than she was. Though he'd never understand that, and certainly never admit it, she knew it was true. And she also knew that, as awful as it was for him now, being removed from that position - from knowing and at least being able to be there doing s _omething -_ would be infinitely worse. So she pushed away from him, just enough to be able to look him in the eye, and trying to keep her voice even, she asked, "Would it be any easier from here?"

He sighed heavily, but she felt him relax in her arms. "No. Dammit."

"So, what choice do we have?" It was rhetorical, because they both, unfortunately, knew the answer, so she quickly continued, 'Besides… If you step down, they'd only replace you with someone  _much_ worse…"

And he chuckled - sort of - and pulled her back into his embrace. For now, at least, and at the moment that was all that really mattered, they were going to be alright.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

He stared up at the ceiling, sleep having proved impossible. He couldn't even close his eyes. Her pain and terror in that moment she'd misunderstood him so completely, her face drained of color, her eyes dimmed in shock, lurked just behind his lids.

He'd hurt her. Once again, he'd let his own fears and his own pain blind him to hers and he'd spoken without thinking, without pausing to realize the full impact of his words. Her fears ran just as deep as his - he  _knew_  that - and yet it was easy to forget that no words of his, no promises made or paper signed or ring on her finger, would ever completely erase them. Only time could prove to her the truth of his words and of his intent and of  _them._ Time which they never seemed to get enough of.

His arm tightened around her as she lay curled against his chest, her neck pillowed on his shoulder, one arm slung across him, holding him tight. As if afraid, even in sleep, that she might wake to find him gone. Not that she ever would. Not that he even  _could._  In the short time they'd been together - really  _together_ , and not just pretending their professional relationship was all either of them actually wanted - she'd become too much a part of him to even imagine letting her go.

Or of losing her.

And yet, he knew he could; it had happened before. It was the chance he'd taken, willingly, when he'd finally understood he was losing her anyway. When, as her father lay dying, he'd known she was hurting despite his best efforts to spare them both the pain of loss. And although the pain of letting her walk away then would have been nothing compared to that of losing her  _now_ , he could not regret that decision. Any other choice would have been impossible. Even if - God forbid - he lost her tomorrow, he could not have stood by then and let her suffer alone. Let her  _continue_  to suffer alone. Not when he was hurting just as much himself.

Besides, it wasn't the end of the world. Not yet, anyway. As he'd told Daniel, they'd come through worse situations than this, or at least through situations almost as bad. Which was why, of course, he had to let her go. If they - the collective  _they_ , the whole world and galaxy and  _everyone_  - had even half a chance of making it through okay, they were going to need Sam. Not in a lab, or behind a desk, but out on the front-line showing Mitchell and the rest of them how Saving the World was done. Landry was right about that.

Of course.

Which was why, in the morning, Sam would be getting orders to report back to Hank at the SGC. The world needed her just as desperately as he did, and as much as he wished it were otherwise, his was not the stronger claim. So she would go, and she would fight, and he would do everything within his power to ensure she had every resource necessary to do so. That was his job now.

He glanced back down at her as she slept against him, safe and secure and  _his_. No matter how much he might want to, he couldn't keep her there, and he couldn't keep her safe. But wherever she went and whatever she did, he intended to spend the rest of their lives proving to her that she was his. Because that was also his job. Now.


	2. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An episode tag for Ripple Effect.

Samantha found herself, quite suddenly, standing in the main room of a cabin in Minnesota. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on your point of view, this was the least surprising thing to happen to her in several weeks. After taking a moment to catch her bearings, she pulled on one of several down jackets hanging by the front door and stepped outside.

The sound of someone chopping wood from the side of the cabin attracted her attention and she stepped over to the right side of the porch. Leaning against the railing, she spent several long, private moments secretly watching her husband work. As if sensing her gaze, he suddenly stopped and looked up, brown eyes smiling straight into her blue.

"Hi, Honey. I'm home!" she called out, unable to resist the joke.

He swung the axe down, firmly planting it in the chopping block before looking back up and replying. "Well, you gonna stand there watching all day, or are you going to come over here and help me carry firewood? The nights get awfully cold."

"That's why I came up here," she teased, "I don't think you'll need this much firewood to stay warm now…" But despite her words, she was already moving to help with the respectable pile of logs he'd split before she'd arrived.

As he loaded logs into her outstretched arms, he asked, "How'd you make it up here so quickly. Last I'd heard you had just decided how to get all those alternate Sams and Dans and Cams and Teal'cs and who knows who else home. Although I had some rather interesting ideas on what to do if you couldn't figure out how to send them all back home…" He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"What on earth would you want with nineteen Cameron Mitchell's?" Samantha asked innocently as she set her firewood pile down on the porch.

Jack just laughed as he set his down next to hers. "Not exactly what I had in mind…." Changing the subject, he continued as he led her into the cabin, "I take it the Asgard beamed you up here?"

"Yup. Got a three-day pass, and they were around so I figured, what the heck. They still owe us one."

"Or twenty, or thirty—hundred. We did save their entire civilization. Several times."

"That's our specialty." She stepped over to the kitchen and poured two cups of coffee while Jack stirred the fire Sam set both still-steaming mugs on the coffee table as they settled together onto the sofa in front of the roaring flames.

"So, I know how strange things can be having two Carter's around. How strange was it with 18?" Jack asked after several minutes in which their mouths – and various other anatomical parts - had been involved in more interesting activities than conversation or drinking coffee.

Sam sipped her reclaimed coffee and snuggled back against Jack's chest. "Very." She paused, considering for a moment before continuing. "Did you hear Martouf was on one of the alternate SG-1s?"

"Yes…"

He sounded nervous, and she could guess why. She quickly continued. "Well, I've often wondered what would have happened if…"

"Things had been different?"

"Yeah. And now I know."

"Care to share?"

She chuckled. "Don't get too big a head…"

"Me?"

"Well, their Sam and Martouf did get together…" She could feel him stiffen against her back. "But they didn't stay that way. Turns out, she's been married to a certain General O'Neill for nearly three years. In fact, there was no Sam on that team. It seems she's been on Maternity Leave for the last two months."

Now it was his turn to chuckle. "There but for the grace of god…"

She elbowed him gently in the ribs. "Very funny. I found out something else, too. Jolinar's not quite as gone as I'd thought. Seems Martouf was still able to dredge up those old memories. Took me completely by surprise, though."

"Oh?..." More concern.

"Don't worry, Jack. Nothing happened. Let's just say the Asgard only owe you nineteen-ninety-nine or twenty-nine-ninety-nine and leave it at that, okay?" She glanced over her shoulder at him, meeting his eyes squarely.

He seemed to read her reassurance in their depths because that oh-so-familiar mischievous grin lit his features as he asked, "So, give. What about the other eighteen Sam's?"

"Well, in what Cam is calling the 'evil alternate reality', Jacob Carter never died and it seems 'Evil Sam' went on her honeymoon with Pete instead of going back with you and the rest of SG-1 to retrieve the ZPM from ancient Egypt."

"I know you, Carter. You couldn't resist asking the others... "

"Damn it, Jack. You were up nineteen to one counting our reality and the missing Sam. Happy?"

He chuckled, masculine pride clearly satisfied. "Very." And before she could say another word, he had taken her coffee cup, set it down next to his, and begun his equivalent of a victory lap.


	3. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Off The Grid episode tag.

Unable to keep her irritation at Cameron Mitchell's enthusiasm for near-death experiences completely out of her voice, Samantha Carter managed a quick "I'm going to go hit the showers," before rushing out of the Gate Room.

Of course, she had washed up a few hours earlier on the Odyssey, and the short time on Ba'al's relatively clean ship hadn't left her desperate for a shower. Instead, she felt an almost desperate need to find the nearest phone and make a quick call. Any minute now the Odyssey's latest report might be crossing the desk of a certain major general working at the Pentagon. It was all very well and good for Cameron to take such delight in risking his life and the lives of his team, but just because he had no one anxiously awaiting his safe return…

Sam had to get to a phone.

She had hoped to avoid this sort of situation by transferring to Area 51, and had dreaded it since returning to the SGC. Hopefully, General Landry's message would reach the Odyssey before they could send in their report, but she knew the realities of sub-space communication better than anyone, and it was unlikely.

Getting to the privacy of her office, she grabbed her phone and punched in the familiar number. Without realizing the significance, Sam was making the same call thousands of servicemen and women had made before her upon returning home from missions or training: 'I'm back, I'm okay, and I'll see you soon.' Strange, and a bit sad, that this was the first such call made by any member of SG-1 after nearly a decade of service.

As the phone rang, she couldn't help but pray under her breath, "Please, pick up."

The private line was answered on the second ring. "O'Neill."

"Jack. I…"

He casually interrupted her, but she couldn't help noticing the catch in his usually smooth masculine tones. "Carter. Good to hear from you. You'll never guess what I've just been reading."

"Damn." She had been too late.

"Actually, I was thinking more like, 'Thank God', but to each his –or her - own."

She couldn't help but smile despite herself. "Yes, sir," she teased back, trying to let him know despite the miles that everything really was okay. "But I was hoping I'd reach you before that report."

"No real harm done. Assuming the earlier report was correct, of course. Otherwise, I'm going to need to go have a few words with certain members of the Lucien Alliance."

"No, I'm fine. Really. Just a few cuts and abrasions. I've been worse." She immediately regretted her words, realizing he knew full well how bad worse could be.

"Yes, well, I'll have to see for myself." He paused for a long, uncomfortable and painful moment before adding, "Any idea when that might be?"

"After this mission, I should be able to finagle at least a 3-day pass. We're debriefing General Landry in about an hour. I should know after that for sure. What about yourself?"

He chuckled ironically. "Gate-lag, Samantha? It's only Tuesday. I have to brief the President tomorrow morning and after that I've got an afternoon full of meetings. Not to mention I have a feeling I might find a file of reports on various activities involving a certain criminal alliance and activities again Ba'al on my desk tomorrow morning."

"Oh." Disappointment, sharp as her need to see him, sliced through her.

"But…" She could hear him smiling over the phone, his tone intentionally light for her benefit. "I could rearrange my schedule a bit, maybe take a long lunch, take some paperwork home early. I'm sure the President would understand. And I am allowed to go home and sleep sometime." He emphasized the word 'sleep' slightly, and she couldn't help but give him the answering chuckle she knew he was seeking.

"All right, it's a date. Assuming I can get the time off." She glanced at her watch. 1500 hours Mountain Time meant 1700 hours in DC, and she wouldn't be able to catch a flight for at least 3 hours. If she was lucky. "I'll give you a call after the debriefing to let you know if I'll be in."

"When, Carter. When you'll be in."

"Yes, sir." She glanced at her watch. "I gotta go, Jack. I need to take a shower before the debriefing or there'll be questions."

"See you later." It was an order.

"Yes, sir. You betcha."

Much later that night, or early the next morning, depending on what time zone you were in, Sam finally made her way out past the security checkpoints at Dulles International Airport. Despite her reassurances to Jack in a phone conversation shortly after SG-1's debriefing with General Landry that she could catch a taxi to the apartment, she couldn't quite keep herself from scanning the terminal as she passed out of the secured area.

And there he was, leaning casually against the wall, ubiquitous baseball cap riding low on his forehead. His eyes found hers from across the corridor and his smile deepened, but otherwise he didn't move.

He straightened up as she approached, reaching for her carry-on as he spoke, "Hey, gorgeous. Need a ride?"

She handed him her bag. "I told you not to wait up. I could have caught a taxi."

He smiled, gesturing around the nearly empty airport, "And still, you looked."

She returned his smile, nodding as she hugged his free arm. "And still, I looked. A girl can hope."

Together they set off down the corridor. Towards the end of the hall, Jack suddenly pulled her into the secluded corner between the Men's and Women's restrooms. Setting down her bag, he pulled her into his arms.

"I missed you, lady."

"I missed you, too, Jack."

After a long moment, he pushed her away. Keeping both hands on her shoulders, he studied her face intently. Letting go of one arm, he reached up to gently trace the cut across her cheek.

She felt her heard skip a beat at the intensity in his expression. His eyes again met hers, concern mixed with anger and – worst of all – fear flashed within their depths.

She sought to reassure him, "I told you, I'm okay."

Still wordless, his hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her face towards his. His mouth found hers in a deep kiss, thoroughly claiming her as his and acknowledging himself as hers in this private moment as they were prevented from doing in more public situations.

Finally, reluctantly, they broke the embrace.

"Oh, one more thing…" Jack said, smiling.

"What?"

Reaching up, he tugged the cap off his own head and slipped it onto hers.

"Jack! You're lucky hat. I can't."

"Please, Samantha. You don't have to wear it. But I'll feel better just knowing you have it with you."

She opened her mouth to protest further, but the pleading look in his deep brown eyes silenced her. Nodding wordlessly, she tucked herself into his willing arms for another embrace. Then, arm-in-arm, they headed out towards the airport doors, their car, and home.


	4. What Should Have Been Obvious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Scourge tag. Or how Cam finds out...

Mere seconds before the Ori 'bugs' finally overran their position, the bugs, along with the planet itself, disappeared in a white haze and the bridge of the Odyssey materialized around SG-1. Major General Jack O'Neill materialized in front of them along with it.

Daniel Jackson glanced briefly at his teammate, Samantha Carter, before turning back to the General. "God… you guys…" Shaking his head, he led the rest of the team out of the room. General O'Neill was the last to leave, following closely behind Colonel Carter, and no one commented on the fact that slowly fell back from the rest of the group, arriving together at the infirmary several minutes behind the rest of the team.

 _Excerpted from the memoirs of Brigadier General Cameron Mitchell, Retired:_

There is one recurring point which has been made concerning the histories of SG-1 which I would like to specifically address at this time. It may seem, in hindsight, that the relationship between Jack O'Neill and Samantha (Carter) O'Neill must have been more readily apparent than reported. However, it is important to realize that most commentators have seen the two of them together primarily in news reports and video taken  _after_  their relationship was made public, as they rarely appeared together in public prior to that point. For years, they more-or-less successfully kept their feelings and later, their marriage itself carefully concealed for professional reasons, and it was most definitely not obvious. I myself had served closely with then Lieutenant Colonel Carter for nearly a year before I knew of their relationship, and in the end I had to be let in on the secret. Maybe the story of exactly how this occurred will help clear the matter up.

It was right after SG-1 returned from escorting a team of delegates from the International Oversite Advisory (IOA) to the Gamma site. As has been fully recounted elsewhere, a deadly strain of bugs, R75, developed by the Ori as a weapon got loose and the delegates and SG-1 had barely escaped with our lives. Some would say I should have suspected something when Jack – General O'Neill – was waiting for us as we beamed onto the Odyssey, but he later explained he had been there on the request of the President to ensure everything possible was done to protect the interests of the IOA representatives. It seemed like a good explanation. A more suspicious mind might also have found something in O'Neill and Sam hanging back from the rest of the team as we walked to the infirmary, but they had been close friends for nearly ten years whom – I thought at the time – rarely saw each other. Their wanting to have a few private words didn't seem too strange under the circumstances.

The bottom line is, someone observing the two of them together who wanted to assume they were having an inappropriate relationship could easily have done so, but they never acted unprofessionally or gave anyone any ammunition which could have resulted in actual fraternization charges. And, of course, their relationship was not inappropriate, as the regulations specifically allow for marriages. Even the military is unwilling to dictate whom a person is allowed to marry.

Eventually I was of course let into the ever-growing circle of those who were "in the know". In fact, by the time their marriage was made public upon O'Neill's retirement, Rodney McKay may have been the only one involved with Homeworld Security who was truly surprised by the announcement. How I found out is typical of Jack and Sam, and really the entire team, and will almost certainly be of interest to future readers.

It was right after the aforementioned mission involving R75. SG-1 had decided to have a 'movie night', and we were all going to meet up at my place after leaving the SGC. It was before Vala had joined the team, so there were just four of us as we left the elevators at the base of Cheyenne Mountain headed for the parking lot. Sam's phone rang and, after glancing at the CallerID, she gestured for the rest of us to continue on without her. She stopped to talk to whomever was on the other end for a minute or two, then, after hanging up, ran to catch up to us.

"Hey, guys," she said a bit breathlessly which, again, might have set off a more suspicious mind as she hadn't run that hard. "It looks like I'm going to be a bit late – and I'm going to be bringing a date."

"Oh, is  _he_  in town?" Daniel Jackson asked with an odd knowing smile.

Sam smiled her most brilliant smile at Daniel as she nodded, "Yup. I'm going to go pick him up from the airport. And, Cam?"

"Yes?"

"At least you got out of buying pizza…" This last comment made no sense, as traditionally senior officer bought so Sam and I rotated, and it was my turn to buy. Before I could question this, however, with a wave and a rather enigmatic smile, Sam ran off towards her car.

After she had left, I turned to Daniel. "Hey, why does she get to bring a date? I thought it was a team party."

Daniel didn't answer me directly. Instead, he turned to Teal'c. "And  _he_  says he's read every mission report? And known Sam how long? Talk about failing to notice the obvious…"

Typically, the only answer from the tall Jaffa was, "Indeed."

Okay, so maybe others in my position  _might_ have noticed something was up with Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter. But I didn't, so it's not unreasonable that those far less familiar with Jack or Sam didn't either.

Later that evening at my house, Teal'c, Daniel and I were sitting around the living room waiting for Sam to arrive with her date. The doorbell rang, and I jumped up to answer it. Much to my surprise, Major General Jack O'Neill was standing at the door. My brain barely registered the small stack of pizzas in his arms.

I snapped instinctively to attention. "Sir."

"Mitchell, at ease. And for crying out loud, when you're standing in your own living room, you can be a bit more casual. Cut out the snapping to attention stuff, okay?"

"Yes, sir." I relaxed a bit.

"Better," he said with a smile.

"Um, sir?" I got up the nerve to ask. "Why are you…"

Before I could finish my sentence, Sam stuck her head inside the door. "Hi, Cam. Told you I was bringing a date."

I probably looked pretty silly for the second or two I stood there with my mouth hanging open. Finally, I managed to say, "You and… But isn't that… I mean… how…?"

Sam just laughed as she stepped past Jack into the room. He chuckled as he handed me the pizzas, saying, "Relax, Mitchell. It's okay. We're married."

Sure. Relax. I had a Major General in my living room who happened to be married to one of my teammates, and he was telling me to relax.

Sometime during the course of that evening, however, as I saw the way Sam and Jack looked at each other when they thought no one else was watching, I began to see that for all their reputation as brilliant soldiers, Sam and Jack really were just two people who had fallen in love with each other. And, unbelievably, I did manage to relax. At least, a little.


	5. Day of Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camelot missing scene.

Samantha Carter sat down at the monitor in one of the Odyssey's guest quarters. She was exhausted after SG-1's adventures in Camelot, but there was something she needed more than sleep. As she'd been leaving the bridge, Colonel Emerson had mentioned there was a personal email for her included in the last mail drop from Earth. He had seemed a bit surprised at her receiving mail on his ship. Usually Odyssey crew members, like those on the Daedalus, had their personal mail forwarded to them through Stargate Command via daily subspace data bursts. Emerson was clearly wondering who knew Carter would be on the ship and could have included a letter in the mail drop. Especially as it was received  _before_  she'd arrived onboard.

Samantha smiled to herself.  _Let him wonder._

She pulled up her temporary inbox and double clicked on the message waiting there. It read:

 _Carter,_

 _Well, by now you're onboard the_ Odyssey _on your way to the Supergate. I hope you like the fleet I made you!_

 _Did you find the Holy Grail? If so, Good Job! If not, I guess you're going to have to pull another plan out of your you-know-where. Either way, I thought you needed to get to the fleet ASAP. Who else is qualified to save our collective asses?_

 _Speaking of which, guess what I did? Kvasir is coming to work with you on this one. Finally got the Asgard to put their little grey butts on the line. Sweet, huh? And Samantha, do try to be a little careful, just for me. I mean it. Please?_

 _But I know you, so let's just leave it at "God speed."_

 _Oh, I almost forgot the most important thing. The builder called. Supposedly, the house should be finally finished this weekend. I'll believe it when I see it, though._

 _So, see, you have to save the world and get back here right away. We still haven't decided what color to paint the living room. How 'bout peridot?_

 _Or maybe we can save that for the bedroom. Shouldn't have mentioned the bedroom. Bad idea, Jack….. She's hundreds of light years away…_

 _Too late._

 _You know I love you, so just hurry up, save the universe, and get back home where you belong._

 _Always,_

 _Jack_

Sam's vision was a bit blurred by the time she finished reading Jack's letter. She quickly rubbed her eyes dry with the heel of her hand before opening a new window and writing in reply:

 _Dear Jack,_

 _Thank you so much for the letter. I do know how much you like writing._

 _You should have seen Colonel Emerson's face when he told me I had a letter waiting. He was dying to ask, but just couldn't. I wish I could have told him, though. The most important thing in the world and we can't tell anybody. Well, except Daniel and Teal'c. And Mitchell. And you had to tell the President. I guess General Landry found out, too. And I'm pretty sure Walter is suspicious._

 _Gees, worst kept secret ever, huh,_ sir

 _There's so much I want to say. I think I've deleted more parts of this letter than I've written. Nothing seems quite right or enough._

 _I think I see what you mean about writing._

 _How about, "I wish you were here?" That sounds terrible, considering. But I do. I really don't know if I can do this without you. I know you, and you're thinking I'm crazy. You never did get it. Trust me, and I mean this in the nicest way possible: you're my best source of stupid ideas. And not bad to look at during the thinking either!_

 _I should probably stop writing. We'll be at the Gate soon and I've been up for – I'm not sure how long! I can almost hear you ordering me to go and get some sleep. So I will._

 _But I do promise to be careful. Well, as careful as possible. You know me. And don't say that's the problem…_

 _As to the living room. I'm thinking pink. Bright, shocking, neon pink. Really. Or maybe not so much. Definitely not peridot. Sorry. I love you, but I have my limits. Not in the living room. Or the bedroom._

 _I guess I'll just have to see it finished before making up my mind._

 _And, Jack, it's thousands of light years. Five thousand, 6 hundred, and thirty-nine. Give or take a hundred. But who's counting?_

 _I love you, I miss you terribly, and I'll be home as soon as I can,_

 _Love,_

 _Samantha Carter_

 _O'Neill_

Sam addressed her letter to Jack's civilian email account and pushed the 'send' button. The email would go out with the next subspace drop, which due to circumstances would doubtless be upon reaching the Supergate. Turning off the monitor, she stood up and moved over to the bed. She took off her boots, lay down, and within minutes was asleep.

And for some reason, in her dreams, the bedroom walls really were peridot. But that's another story.


	6. Debriefing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flesh and Blood episode tag.

The four members of SG-1 and Vala were just finishing up their meal when they felt the familiar jerk of The Odyssey shifting out of hyperspace. The blue and white globe of Earth filled the mess hall's dining room.

Overhead, the ship's intercom sprang to life. "SG-1, report to the bridge. SG-1, report to the bridge."

Cameron Mitchell stood-up first. "Well, sports fans, we're up." The rest of the team stood and followed him out the door.

Colonel Emerson was waiting for them on the bridge. As they entered, he leaned over towards the communications console beside his chair.

"They're here, general."

A familiar voice issued from the speaker. "Hey, guys. How's it goin'?" They had expected General Landry, and Emerson could see their surprise at hearing General O'Neill's casual voice instead.

Even though it wasn't strictly necessary for communications, Colonel Mitchell leaned closer to the speaker. "Well, sir…"

General O'Neill cut him off. "That was rhetorical, Mitchell. I've read your reports. Which reminds me: good catch. I owe you a six-pack."

Mitchell quickly glanced over his shoulder at Colonel Carter, who smiled and raised both eyebrows in a strangely self-satisfied expression. Turning back to the speaker, Mitchell continued, smiling himself, "Just doing my job, sir."

"Well, thanks all the same." For a moment, there was an unusual depth of feeling in the general's tone. Any sound of that was gone, however, and O'Neill was back to business as he continued, "Anyway, the reason I'm calling is because the President would like a first-hand account of what happened out there at the Supergate. Carter?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Since you had, as it were, a first row seat, the President is asking you to come down here and brief him on the events."

Emerson could just hear Daniel Jackson mutter under his breath something that sounded suspiciously like, "I'll bet."

O'Neill must have had unusually sharp hearing because he immediately asked, "What was that, Daniel?"

"Nothing, Jack."

The general went on as though nothing had happened, "So, Carter, I thought you should come straight down here to D.C. You can debrief me tonight before we meet tomorrow morning with the President."

The conversation was abruptly interrupted at this point by Daniel Jackson's sudden coughing fit. Vala moved over to him, patting him on the back until he could get his breathing under control. None of the others moved to help. In fact, Carter just glared at him.

"You alright, Daniel?" O'Neill's disembodied voice asked, sounding strangely and completely unconcerned.

"Um," Jackson managed to squeak out. "Yes…" Finally getting his breathing under control he concluded, "Sorry about that."

"Yes… Well… Are you picking up my transponder location, Emerson?"

Shaking off the feeling that he'd tuned in halfway through the show, Emerson turned to the nearby tech, who nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good, I'll be standing by. O'Neill out."

Closing the contact, Emerson turned to Carter. "Colonel, do you need to get anything before heading down?"

Sam shook her head, "No, sir. I'm ready to go."

"Good. Sergeant Peters, transport her down to General O'Neill's last signal location."

The team said their goodbyes before Carter disappeared in a white flash. Jackson managed the last word, though, getting in "Have fun debriefing the general, Sam," the moment before she vanished.

When the after-effects of the white materialization beam wore off and her vision cleared, Samantha found herself on the brightly lit front porch of a newly renovated Victorian-era farmhouse. The porch wrapped around the side of the house to her left; the front door stood invitingly before her. She glanced at the siding on either side of the door. The blue looked even better in person than it had in the showroom.

A voice drifted up to her from the darkness beyond the glow of the porch light. "Welcome home, Samantha."

She turned around, smiling broadly. "It's beautiful."

"Yes. It is." Sam couldn't miss the double meaning in the words.

She pointed upwards towards the light. "I see you left the porch light on."

Jack stepped forward, onto the first porch step and into the light. "Always."

Sam could feel weeks of tension drain away at the sight of him. "God, it's good to be here." They may have been the truest words she'd ever spoken.

"C'mere." He gestured to her with open arms.

She walked down the porch steps and into the circle of his embrace. For long moments they clung to each other, content simply to hold and be held. Finally, Jack pushed her away, but only far enough to look into her face. His old sly smile was back. "Wanna see inside?"

"You betcha!" She moved to turn away from him and up the steps. He grabbed her arm, stopping her. "What?"

Jack shook his head in mock exasperation. "Carter, don't you know  _anything?_ "

She started to say, "Huh?", but before she could get the word out, Jack had swooped her up and into his arms. "Jack!"

He echoed her tone perfectly. "Sam!" Jack fumbled briefly with the front door knob before kicking the door open with his foot. "Tradition!"

She chuckled and relaxed against his chest. "Yes, sir."

They passed through the door and into the front hall. When he failed to set her down inside the door, she half-expected him to continue carrying her right up the stairs and into their bedroom. Instead, he carried her only a few more feet into the living room.

Jack set her down in front of the fireplace where a fire crackled, filling the darkened room with dancing shadows. The quilt from their bed lay before the fire, softening the hardwood floor.

Sam looked up at him, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I see you've prepared for the debriefing."

"Mhmm," he muttered in agreement. Cupping the back of her neck, he tilted her face up to meet his. Jack's lips claimed hers and, gently, he lowered them both to the floor below.

Somewhere out there in the darkness, the galaxy might be falling to pieces, but right here, right now, none of that seemed to matter. For the first time in her life, Samantha Carter thought she understood what Home really meant.


	7. Awakening

He sat in the quiet infirmary room, content just watching her sleep. Her face was nearly translucent beneath her tousled blonde hair, and Jack fought the urge to reach out and brush back the stray strands which had fallen across her forehead. The need to touch her, to feel her warm and alive beneath his hand was nearly impossible to resist, but the doctor assured him that her sleep was finally natural. So he sat and waited, the gentle rise and fall of her chest and each whisper of breath through softly parted lips promising him that she would wake and be alright.

Eventually, Carters stirred in the bed, her eyes opened and she scanned the room, clearly disoriented. "Hi," he said, drawing her attention to himself.

"Jack?" Then, recollecting herself, she smiled slightly. "Sorry, sir."

He smiled in response, allowing all his relief at her recovery and the pure joy of simply being with her to show on his face. "We're alone, here,  _Samantha_ , you don't have to 'sir' me." He gestured around the empty room to emphasize his point.

"Old habits. Sorry… Jack."

He felt his smile grow to match hers. "That's better." He moved to sit down beside her on the bed and took her hand in his own. Lifting it to his lips, he gently kissed her knuckles in a gesture of respect as ancient as the human race. Murmuring past their linked fingers, he asked, "How are you doing, Sam?"

"Tired, still, but other than that, pretty good." Remembering still more, she asked, "What about Daniel? And Teal'c and Mitchell? They were up at the cave…"

"They're fine. Like you, they just need to sleep now. In fact," he added, knowing she wouldn't easily go back to sleep without more information, "Teal'c and Mitchell found a little friend that seems to be the key – along with your research, of course – to saving your collective asses. Doctor Lam could probably tell you more; it's all geek to me."

Jack's intentional verbal slip got the intended response. Carter giggled, and he couldn't help but join her. After the stress of the last three days, it was good to finally be able to laugh. For awhile there, he hadn't been sure he would ever smile again.

It had been three days since Hank Landry had called him at the Pentagon and Jack had developed a sudden urgent need to be personally briefed on the status of the SGC. In the days since then, he had waited, alone in the darkened briefing room, counting the seconds until the retrieval team had stepped back through the 'gate carrying SG-1, unsure whether they could ever be safely awakened from their induced comas and unable to bear thinking about what he would do if that were the case.

Later, he had waited in the corner of Carter's infirmary room, anonymous in his environmental suit, watching the medical personnel work, knowing she was receiving the best care this planet had to offer. His relief had been immeasurable when Doctor Lam and her team had found the 'cure,' and he had finally been able to be with her directly, to touch her and to talk to her free from the constraining suit.

Now, looking at her lying next to him in the bed, alive and laughing and whole, being with him and being  _his_ , all the fear and anxiety of the last few days became nothing more than the ghosts of memories. Jack knew he wouldn't trade his life for anything.

Not even cake ;-).


	8. Who Knew It Was Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode tag for The Road Not Taken.

Sam woke with a start, and Jack rolled over to check on her.

"What is it, Sam? You okay?"

She shook her head slightly to clear it. "I'm okay. It's nothing, it's just… I had the  _strangest_  dream."

"And…," he began for her.

"And it's too complicated to go into," she answered after some consideration. "But somehow, in the dream, I ended up as both Dorothy  _and_  the Wicked Witch of the East."

He looked at her curiously for a minute before speaking, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Mitchell said you didn't have to finish his macaroons."

He succeeded – he always did – and she laughed. The dream's spell was broken. "More likely it was the Tylenol 3."

Jack chuckled in return. Then, careful not to put pressure on her wounded side, he gathered her into his arms where, tucked in his embrace, she was soon fast asleep again. And the dream was forgotten completely.


	9. Dr. Lee Gets a Memo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fill-in scene for Bounty.

As the cocktail reception neared its close, Dr. Bill Lee started to search the room for Colonel Samantha Carter. He had had a productive hour, and was going to be meeting up with a certain tall brunette 'friend' once the conference's opening banquet had concluded. Unfortunately, table assignments had gone out weeks ago or he would have actually had a date for the evening. Still, there would be plenty of time later for them to get to know each other.

Now, if he could only find Sam so they could go in and sit down for the dinner. Despite the fact that the time here in Philadelphia was two hours ahead of the time he was used to, Bill was still hungry. He decided to make one final trip to the hors doers table before continuing his search.

Bill turned around a bit too quickly after grabbing several of the few remaining cheese cubes on the table and bumped into the man standing behind him.

"Oh, excuse me –" he began, but then, suddenly realizing who he was speaking to – "General O'Neill… What are you doing here?"

"Grabbing some food. You know, with the welcoming speeches and all, its going to be at least an hour until we get to eat, and it's a long drive up from D.C."

Bill was now completely lost. "Yes, sir," he managed to stammer.

General O'Neill smiled, which was odd enough in and of itself, before correcting him. "And it's just Jack here, Bill. I'm not working." O'Neill – Jack – pulled on his tie, and Bill realized the other man was dressed in a civilian suit. Which wasn't that surprising since Sam was also wearing civvies to this event.

Still, it didn't explain what Jack was doing here. "Then why-?" But Bill's question was interrupted as Sam Carter appeared at Jack's side. "Hi, guys."

To Bill's complete surprise, General Jack O'Neill slipped his arm around his former second-in-command and pulled her to him. Some of Bill's shock must have shown on his face, because Jack chuckled at his reaction. Looking down at the woman tucked against his side, Jack asked her in wonder, "He didn't know?"

Sam bit her lip as she shook her head. Even Bill could tell she was trying to hide a smile. "Nope. I was going to tell him, but he took off with some 'admirers' before I could." She glanced at Bill with a slight grimace. "Sorry, Bill. We've been keeping a low profile for obvious reasons, but I really thought you knew."

He looked at the two Air Force officers, not quite able to believe his eyes. "Knew what?"

"Why did you think I left the SGC, Bill?" Jack asked. "My love of politics? Sam and I have been together now for nearly two years."

"Two… What? You mean… The two of you…?" There had been rumors, of course, when they had both left the SGC that something was going on between them. After all, you'd have had to be blind not to notice how much they were attracted to each other. But Sam had returned to the SGC, and he'd never thought anymore about it. Though, now when he did think about it, she had seemed rather happier and more relaxed since returning. "You're… dating?" he finally asked, still unable to completely believe it.

"No, Bill,' Sam laughed at his amazement, "We're married."

Married? O'Neill and Carter? Unbelievable. And yet, as he looked at them now more clearly, standing in front of him and smiling at each other, Bill found himself believing. In fact, it suddenly seemed hard to believe he hadn't noticed something before. Then, as he looked more closely, he noticed something else. And he suddenly realized why he had been unable to find Sam when he'd been looking for her earlier.

Chuckling now himself, he reached down, grabbed a napkin off the food table, and handed it to Sam. "Just one last thing,  _Colonel_ … If you're going to try keeping this relationship a secret for much longer," he said, pointing towards Jack's face. "You might want to make sure to wipe  _all_ your lipstick off the General's face  _before_  leaving the broom closet - or wherever you two were…"

With that, Bill Lee walked off, having for once managed to get in the last word. And, when they joined him at their table a few moments later, all trace of the offending lipstick gone, Bill did his best to ignore both the slightly embarrassed look on Samantha Carter's face and the rather infuriatingly smug look on Jack O'Neill's.


	10. More Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technically a spoiler for SGA's Echoes.

"He did what?" she laughed into the phone, not sure she'd heard correctly.

"He named the whale thingie after you. It's right here in her report."

More laughter. "God… that man."

"Elizabeth said, off the record, that it was all she could do not to spill everything right there and then just to see his face."

"I'll bet… Cam had the same reaction."

"Yeah… me too, actually."

"Well, it is  _your_  secret…"

"True." She could hear the smugness in his tone, but also the tiredness. She glanced at the bedside clock. .

"Well, I should probably let you get to sleep." She didn't want to end their conversation, but 2200 hours for her meant 2400 for him, and he had to be at the White House for a 0700 briefing in the morning.

"I guess." His reluctance echoed hers. As much as she looked forward to, and even, if she were honest, needed these daily phone calls when she wasn't offworld, this part was always difficult.

"Good night, Jack. Wish you were here."

"Me too. 'Night hun, and good luck with that new watchamacallit. Talk to you tomorrow."

"You bet. Love you."

"Love you, too… Bye, Sam."

"Bye." And, forcing herself to finally severe the connection, she hung up. Reaching up, she turned off her bedside lamp before rolling over and trying to get comfortable in her all-to-empty bed while, hundreds of miles away, Jack O'Neill did the exact same thing.


	11. Winners and Losers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actually missing scene for SGU's: Air.

He sat down behind his desk.  _Back_ , he typed into the small chat box at the bottom of the window opened on his desktop.

The reply came back a few seconds later.  _That didn't take too long._

 _Nope,_ he typed.  _Your turn._

 _What was it about?_

 _Later. Your turn…_

 _Was it an update from Destiny?_

 _Sam, stop trying to postpone the inevitable._

He could almost hear the sigh on the other end of the screen before one of the chessman on his screen began to move.

He smiled to himself before typing,  _Checkmate. I win._

 _Yes… Today. Same time tomorrow?_

 _You betcha. Luv ya._

 _Love you too._ There was a brief pause, though far longer than typing her next message could have required.  _At least we're finally headed back in the right direction.. Till then…._ And with that, she quickly severed the connection.

He stayed sitting staring at the screen in silence for a few minutes before closing the window and opening the one he'd been working in before his break. Long-distance chess would never replace anything, and sometimes he wasn't certain it didn't make the longing worse. But at least it was better than nothing.


End file.
